Unconsciously for Pride
by AQ40
Summary: Marcus Du Couteau's sudden disappearance had left his eldest, and most successful, daughter with a whole heap of new assignments. Slowly, Katarina began to question her own worth, yet a thin wall of pride made her oblivious to the truth. Caitlyn as a major support character. Rate T due to the nature of LoL, a one-shot. (Been Revised). Enjoy!


**Hey guys! This is DMC, (During Math Class Not to be confused with Devil May Cry -.-) I have went back on this story and made a few changes to make it become a better read. I've assessed all errors and mistakes. Please review and let me know if I can make improvements! After all, it is always nice to receive constructive criticism and encouragement from readers and other authors alike! Now... enjoy!**

**Project: Unconscious Reflection**

It was one of those nights where every summoner in the league had dinner with the champions to celebrate the peace pact they've kept for these two years. It was one of those nights where a certain redheaded assassin scowled at every smile sent in her direction.

Katarina Du Couteau hated celebrations; particularly when her battleground enemies were also under the same roof as herself.

Her sister, Cassiopeia, never attended these parties; not to mention she'd never deserted her bedchamber for anything but the battlefield and urgent calls of the league summoners. That girl who was a fool and thought that beauty could win over all, she ultimately became a monster by an oath that was not cautiously sworn. Katarina wouldn't make that type of mistake; she took too much pride in her efficient abilities to even think about making errors.

'I hate this place,' Katarina loathed inside her head and massaged her temples. Music boomed everywhere, bright lights decorated the place, the glory gave off too much sparks and Katarina didn't want to take life easily like this.

It should be that every moment was a battle and victory, that every second had to be planned more than two steps ahead, that every pace had to have blood inched on her footsteps. A constant inner war and guard that her father's disappearance had left with her has furthermore steeled her already stoned heart. Now Katarina didn't even have time to think about slowing down just to rest her head from thoughts and experiences from the battlefield. It was perhaps the silent legacy of Marcus Du Couteau, that pat of a praise he used to give to her shoulder after their practise spars. Or it could be the way she became addicted to the draw of blood from those merciless daggers, those pair of emerald eyes that held pride in what a mere woman could do for her one sided warring nation. But if those reasons weren't good enough for Katarina to remember her position and responsibility, then the girl would sometimes blame herself for being born. Katarina couldn't blame anyone else, because there weren't anyone that associated themselves with her family. And she would never bring the blame down to her father whom she respected and adored with all her ever admiring faith.

But so many things bothered her that night, the fact that the lights and music gave her a headache and the fact that she was still all alone. Not alone without a date, just generally alone and without the assurance of her father, although she was already a grown woman.

It didn't seem right, and Katarina escaped onto the balcony where she would be less pestered by the festivity, with her black dress in tow. She needed to think things through. Her sister's problems slowly became her own. The haunting burden as the head of the Du Couteau and her upcoming promotion as High Command. Not to mention the missions and diplomatic conflicts against all the other nations she had to wing against for Noxus (everything was for Noxus in her mind). Oh, and that Talon, her adoptive brother which she had no trouble fighting with. Katarina had a handful to take care of and she was definitely not pleased.

Brushing a few stray strands of red hair away from her face, Katarina's touch came across the irremovable scar above her left eye. What it stood for, she occasionally wondered. It was like the loss of virginity, the day when the scar had made her its permanent host. It brought her fame, brought the fear into her enemies' eyes, brought the out the pride she always had, and yet it ultimately made her untouchable to anyone. She could never hate the person who brought that mutilation to her; she wanted to thank them in doing so. But then again it was Garen Crownguard who made it evident to all that her beauty needed something to match her killer instinct, thus that scar, and Katarina couldn't summon up the courage to express her attitude towards it. It would just be sick and wrong if she did.

Katarina sometimes thought that she was neither woman nor man, neither human nor living, probably just a prideful soul on the inside, a killing machine on the outside, and a sad little wishful girl in between.

"I liked it the way before, somewhat." She softly muttered with the corners of her lips dropped, her gaze low and fixated on those battle worn hands that rested on the railing of the balcony. It wasn't a terribly big veranda, small scenery, perhaps romantic, perch just for two. Maybe a three could fit in, but Katarina's mind wasn't even close to that thinking. Her mind actually pondered why those mindless words slipped through her lips. It wasn't like this was any different to before: she was still active in the fields of justice, she still fought like a silent beast and she still kept that near romantic state of mind with the very person who gave her that vertical mark over her right eye. So maybe, after all, it did have something to do with her father-

Without so much a sound, another moved their body into the ledge.

"You must miss your father, Miss Du Couteau," a voice said gently, almost apologetically, behind her. Katarina didn't feel like she needed to respond and so she focused her attention on the star littered sky instead, hoping that annoying of a summoner would leave her alone.

An exhale, which must have been a sigh, of cold breath lengthened the awkwardness that the intruder no doubt felt. Katarina was _unapproachable_ and _untouchable _at the same time. She just had way too much pride in herself. What a sad pride it was.

"I'm not a summoner, if that is what you are thinking, Katarina." Katarina was quiet and thought for a few seconds, before realization finally struck which made her eyes widen. How could she forget that voice: the posh English accent and polite pause of the ace-shooter which pissed her off so many times in the battlefield?

"Caitlyn..." Katarina whispered, close to being astonished, turning around to witness the sheriff of Piltover in her black party attire. The colour suited her, thought Katarina, yet it was weird not seeing her with her trademark top hat on. "Why, what are you doing here?"

"Why, why aren't you joining the party? It's dedicated to peace, don't you want peace, Katarina?" The words weren't surprising coming from Caitlyn. One of her abilities had the word imprinted in there too.

"I'm not particularly interested." Katarina replied in monotone. A casual breeze passed by, and Katarina almost forgot that she had her hair braided, instead of allowing it loose. That would've explained why she didn't feel the freedom from behind, and restriction from the bound hair-tie.

"Aren't you interested? But your two boyfriends seem to be in quite the mood, why not join them?" Caitlyn didn't sneer or smirk, she was just trying to lift the atmosphere with her _'pretend-obliviousness'_, but that wasn't how things worked with Katarina.

"They're **not** my boyfriends." She scowled, referring to Garen and Talon. 'They're _anything _but my boyfriends.' She added in thought, although she knew she was lying in Garen's case. Or at least she didn't mind him being her boyfriend.

Caitlyn wasn't really taken aback nor surprised at the answer. She knew it was coming and had it all prepared according to a _previous plan_.

"Then it's your father?"

And at that moment, Katarina lost the entire colour on her face and felt the dread flood in.

"What does losing your father to mystery feel like, Katarina?" Caitlyn continued their conversation, virtually casual and relaxed, Katarina, however, wanted to hide. Yet her pride held her still and told her to move on.

In a quiet voice, the assassin answered and asked, "At the top of power, how does being the killer of peace feel like, _sheriff_?"

It was then Caitlyn's turn to pale, the redhead didn't even give the brunette a chance to retaliate.

"Feels great doesn't it? The anonymous person who doesn't have to take care of what happens to the body and the dead's family, and you call yourself the peacemaker, Caitlyn. You and your city know nothing of clemency." Katarina finished with a bold smirk; she had hit right on the target and felt no regret in doing so. It was the sheriff who stirred her up in the first place.

Caitlyn was stunned. All the work she had dedicated into protecting her nation had settled in just one-tenth of a second and left a stream of guilt in her adrenaline. Yes, Katarina was correct; her city was selfish and held no compassion for the criminals and their family. It had traces in similarity of governing as Demacia, yet nowhere as cruel and final as the other capital. Just sneaky, that was the only word Caitlyn could relate to.

"You are not wrong, Sinister Blade; Piltover indeed leaves all their dirty and uncanny businesses for me to do. But Piltover is my city, it's a place I've grown up in and grew to love. I'd be glad, even if it was to kill an innocent, for my city."

"Then it's not all about peace is it?"

"Do you live for peace?"

"No one in the league really does. It's all for their own selfish desires."

"Then neither do I." Katarina rolled her eyes in aggravation at the sharpshooter and returned her gaze towards the dotted sky.

"Just go on and contradict yourself."

"It was merely something for me to say to go under your skin, Sinister Blade." Katarina flinched; the Sheriff of Piltover was not someone who would uncover their true intention in one small, and arguable, conversation. Katarina leaned off the railing and stared intently at the ace shooter, as if pondering to strike or lash at the image in front or not.

"Summoner…" Katarina whispered dangerously low.

**"Why do you continue your service at the league, Katarina?"** The voice completely changed to match that of a man's. Katarina had heard about those people who had to prove themselves to the league before entering, and she definitely didn't think she needed to go through the same bullshit for her position and dedication.

But still, she replied for the sake of it, "For Noxus…"

**"Anything else?"** The summoner questioned, he knew that the girl had more to actually say than that.

"…" Katarina stayed soundless and empty minded. She didn't realise it all until flashbacks began to replay behind her head, against her will. To be controlled like a puppet in such way by those who did not have the permission to know did not win any favour or agreement from Katarina, her fist moved upward, or at least tried. And then she stood motionless, her arms bound to her side, emerald eyes focused on a blur in front as all that brought her sadness began to push that pride out.

**"I'm asking you, Katarina Du Couteau, what ****else****?"**

Katarina's past played faster and faster, just like a broken disc that strove to get through the details and finally into the present. Painful memories from her mother's smile repeated right to the suspense her father's desertion in her throbbing head. Tears ran like rivers down her puffy cheeks and red nose.

She broke. Without the will to dispute or defend, Katarina surrendered her body and mind to the mercy of the league.

"F-for my family… For my sister… For my father…" Katarina finally sobbed out through her trembling body and cracked voice. "Just make it stop… please…"

It hurt too much, yet she still didn't know why she cried so relentlessly.

Within a second of her reply, the summoner made their decision and revealed the details to the depressed assassin, _'Katarina the only reason we do this is because of the recent doubt you have been gathering.'_

Doubt? What doubt? How could Katarina ever doubt in her ability, or the abilities she had trusted in those who surrounded her. She knew she was strong, she, slightly lowering her pride, knew that those who were summited to the league were strong. So why was the summoner so intent and persistent on distorting her mind and pat?

…Or was she in denial?

Before Katarina could answer herself properly and courageously, the summoner spoke again,

_'Now, how does it feel exposing your mind?'_

That was enough to break through her final defence and sanity.

"JUST LEAVE!"

And she woke up.

Katarina DuCouteau was shocked beyond words from that experience. She collected herself again and calmed down a little before reassessing the dream. No, it wasn't just a dream, it was also reality. The summoners were right to test her mental control, but it made her mad and furious at the same time. Her pride dragged her down; she almost slapped herself when that thought penetrated her mind.

The emotions, conversations in that dream felt so real and why did the summoners select Caitlyn's image to be candidate for the test? Katarina didn't want to care that much, she just wanted to sleep until noon, and not be interrupted by battle calls. Katarina really did feel lonesome at that party under the trance.

But looking back on it now, she thought that wasn't too bad, at least Caitlyn wore the same coloured dress as her. So she guessed it wasn't all in vain.

**ROOM NUMBER: 506 / CAITLYN'S ROOM**

The Sheriff experienced the same reality as Katarina. It saddened her that the summoners decided to pick on her and forced her to say words she detested. Not because it intimidated and upset Katarina, but because Caitlyn knew she said the truth about herself. The summoners just had her force herself out of her own secret denial.

It wasn't wrong for them to do that; it would help Caitlyn in the future, _yet still…_

"We really are just pawns of our own desires in the league, aren't we, Sinister Blade?"


End file.
